


Hospital

by ByTheDawn



Series: 300challenge [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 17:52:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ByTheDawn/pseuds/ByTheDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the #300Challenge, based off of the title prompt. While Henry is in a coma after a bad fall, Regina and Emma work through years of pain after their break-up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hospital

The sounds of the machines keeping alive a fragile young boy disturbed the silence in the most monotonous of ways. No matter how old she got, no matter the outcome of this nightmare, Regina knew she would never be able to unhear the rhythm of these machines working in tandem to monitor vital signs and provide much needed oxygen to her son—her son, who was dying and there was nothing she could do about it but sit here day after day and hold his hand while she pleaded for him to come back to her.

She blamed her ex-wife for what had happened to her little boy—after all, he had been at her home in New York when the accident had happened. She also blamed God, and the universe, but mostly she blamed herself for even letting Henry out of her sight in the first place. When Emma had come crawling back after ten years of absence just to make ridiculous claims over the son they had shared for only a few short months before Emma had walked out on them both, Regina had resisted her—fought her—until the waterworks and sad smiles, until story upon story of happier times and emotionally charged apologies had won her over. If only she had been able to stop loving the blonde... she would have been stronger and Henry would still be happy and healthy.

The scraping of a familiar throat shook Regina away from her thoughts and she turned slowly to the woman in the door opening of the single-person hospital room. Emma was looking worse for wear every day, Regina mused, but her treacherous heart still clenched painfully at the sight of the woman who would forever hold her heart. They had been doing this dance for nearly two weeks now: Regina sat with Henry from noon to midnight, and Emma took the other half of the day. Two times a day, they now saw each other and despite the anger and pain over current and past events, Regina had started to live for these moments. They were the only highlights in a currently very bleak life. She would be damned if she showed the blonde this, however.

"How is he?" Emma asked, walking further inside. Her hands were pressed firmly into the pockets of her jeans—a nervous habit—and no amount of make-up could hide the bags under her eyes. Regina blamed Emma, but her anger had never been able to outweigh the blame Emma placed on herself. Regina's heart was torn between gleeful elation at the woman's suffering and intense heartache over Emma's pain.

"The same." She answered neutrally, and Emma's leather-clad shoulders sagged minutely—the way they always did when her hopes of Henry's recovery were dashed. Regina ignored the stab to her heart and her desire to envelop Emma in a long hug as she stood and smoothed her wrinkled blouse. For a quick second, panic flared over the future—her vacation days at the law firm were coming to an end, and they were paying for most of these treatments; if she lost her job, she would lose Henry so how long could she realistically sit with him until she had to abandon him?—but she stuffed the choking emotions back, numbing herself once more to anything but the here and now. It wasn't healthy for the human mind to spend twelve hours a day in a hospital.

"You okay?" The words were spoken softly and accompanied by tentative fingers that lightly brushed her lower arm. Sometime during Regina's musing, Emma had gotten close enough to touch her. Regina pulled back her arm as if burned; it had been the first touch in years, and it shocked her to the core.

"What do you think?" She bit back angrily, and Emma flinched.

"He fell, Regina. He fell down a fucking flight of stairs... It wasn't my fault..." Emma replied, her tone falling somewhere between angry and pleading, and Regina had to fight her tears—and her irrational anger.

"That doesn't change the fact that—" Regina started, but there was no way to finish that sentence; 'the fact that we're here', 'the fact that he is in a coma’... 'the fact that he is dying'. These were thoughts never to be spoken aloud. Not ever, and they both knew it. Regina looked away from pained green eyes and fought the tears.

"I know." Emma answered, her voice rough and painful like razorblades. This time when Emma reached for her arm, Regina didn't fight it. She slowly dragged her eyes back towards the woman who had stolen her heart so long ago and had to fight the intense desire to fall into her, to break down and dissolve together. Still, when Emma's hand slid down to take her hand, she allowed it while she searched emotion-filled green mere inches away from her.

They were silent for long moments, locked in this cocoon of pain and suffering, of regret and resentment that filled their every waking moment now. They had been so close once and now all that remained were ghosts. Emma broke first—surprisingly—and Regina watched the tears slide down pale skin with an ache in her chest that almost rivalled the one continually there. On instinct alone, Regina's free hand came up to cup a soft cheek and Emma gratefully leaned into the touch. With a heavy sigh—and a heavier heart—Regina slid her hand into Emma's hair, encircled the back of her skull, and pulled her forward into a hug Emma launched into. Their bodies entwined as Emma used both arms to cling to her, sobbing loudly and unrestrained into the crook of Regina's neck. 

The press of Emma's body against hers brought some semblance of life back into it, and she clung to the feeling in the way her arms clung to Emma, gripping at her hair and clothes in desperation. Emma, at least, understood her pain. It was something small, but it was the closest she could come to alleviating the pain that was threatening to tear her in two. So close to the other woman, she could smell her perfume, could feel soft curls, and for a moment she was able to suppress her crushing emotions.

The kisses she placed onto Emma's hair were very nearly subconscious—a privilege she'd had a decade ago but which had been revoked by the blonde. She claimed it now as she held her and tried not to think of Emma's husband waiting for her at home. She tried not to be angry or jealous—ten years Emma had not been hers to be jealous over; a hug did not change that, or kisses in hair she had missed so much, or the way they fitted together so perfectly even after all this time.

"He'll be okay." She croaked, and Emma clung to her tighter, desperate to believe her words. Regina was equally desperate—she understood the power of hope now, when all was so bleak. They stood together long moments, drawing strength and comfort from one another, until Emma pulled back. Her eyes were wet and red, and Regina's mind was unable to keep up as she gently leaned forward to kiss each of them in turn. She had done it so many times in the past, it didn't seem like an offense now. Emma's sharp intake of breath and the tremble in her hands as she fisted Regina's shirt registered only dimly. Regina was lost in soft skin, in the familiarity of a gesture she had missed so much. Living without Emma was torture and she wasn't sure how long she would be able to keep doing this dance; Emma was married—not overtly happily, but still married—and she had made her choice. Regina had no business dropping butterfly kisses down pale features to capture stray tears. She had no business tasting salt and pain, and most certainly no business inching closer and closer to parted lips that couldn't contain a whimper.

Regina swallowed heavily once she realized where her exploration was headed and she slowly slid her hand from the back of Emma's neck to her shoulder so Emma could pull away at any time. She didn't, though; if anything, Emma was pulling her tighter, shutting out the room simply by wrapping her arms around Regina's back. Emma's breathing had become shallow and while her eyes were shut, Regina still felt scrutinized. Her lips brushed the corner of Emma's mouth while her heart pounded in her chest, and when Emma did not move away—did not give any sign of objecting—she placed another lingering kiss slightly more firmly onto lips she had missed beyond anything. 

Her heart managed two beats in the time her son's heart made just a single one, and her heart broke all over again. Spurred on by the crushing despair that once more seeped into her brain, Regina took the plunge; pulling back a minute distance, she moved her head so she could claim Emma's lips in a full-on press that was met with a gasp and nails digging into the skin of her back. Regina shivered and drowned, sliding her lips over Emma's more roughly than she had intended. Years upon years of desire coupled with a desperate need to forget and Regina lost herself in the taste, the sound, the smell of the woman she had once spent every day with. 

It was Emma who deepened the kiss, pulling her impossibly closer and parting her lips so she could slide her tongue over Regina's willingly parting lips. They moaned into the monotony of the room as tongues met roughly, desperately, and it took Regina long moments to realize that the monotonous sounds she had grown accustomed to were no longer monotonous; there was something wrong—different. She pulled back with a groan, her worry over her son breaking through years of need for the woman in her arms, but Emma's death grip on her did not lessen. Emma tried to capture her mouth again, and Regina slid her hand down to Emma's chest to halt her.

"Emma, listen..." She croaked, shocked by the gravel in her voice, and Emma halted herself, pressing their foreheads together a moment as they stood together and listened to a heart rate monitor that seemed to beep faster in a way that only became noticeable after a few beats. Regina tried to untangle herself, but Emma refused to give up her protective hold, moving with her until Regina had all but turned in her arms. It seemed paramount that they continued to be locked, as if the change in Henry’s status had been brought forth somehow by their renewed connection. The brunette felt a chin land softly on her shoulder as two sets of eyes became locked to the monitor and watched a heart rate climb up slowly. They waited silently, with bated breath, for almost a minute until they were sure enough to hit the emergency button. 

Although Emma had let her go, their hands had somehow become entwined—it seemed impossible to let go completely after what had just happened, and the emotional roller-coaster of Henry's changed medical status was enough to instil a need for comfort in both of them—and Regina let herself be tethered by the touch as she tried to keep her soaring hope in check. They stood to the side—silently, anxiously—as two nurses checked Henry's equipment and vital signs, then waited while a doctor was summoned. Fading further and further into the background, they stood side by side as they waited, trying to distil meaning from the medical jargon that upset the oppressive atmosphere in the room. Emma's hold on her hand had become vice-like, but Regina hardly felt it. Every fibre of her being was focussed on her little boy who was showing all the signs of awakening—of progress—and if she wanted anything more than Emma right now, it was that, although the blonde woman was a very, very, close second.


End file.
